


Getting to Grips

by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes/pseuds/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes
Summary: Post-helicarriers, Bucky is trying to deal with who he is, his resentment about his metal arm, and whether he should contact Steve. Then a malfunctioning robot gets loose in a shopping mall…





	Getting to Grips

**Author's Note:**

> AU set soon after “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” (and in this AU, the Winter Soldier was not the one sent to assassinate the Starks in 1991).

 

xXx

Bucky ate. He tried not to do it mechanically, but to taste it, savor it, instead. To remember how to eat as a human being. As someone who now had the choice of _not_ eating something if he didn’t like it. To put something in his mouth and chew and notice the flavor, instead of it being given to him via a feeding tube or IV.

He was in a small apartment in New York, having shadowed Steve back there. He kept a glove on his left hand most of the time, even when alone. Seeing the metal… it made him feel sick. Resentful. Angry. The metal arm gave him aches and the noises it made grated in his ears. It was a constant reminder of being dehumanized.  

His younger self had loved reading science fiction about robots. Becoming and being one – not so fun.

A robot. And a ‘ghost’. That was quite a combination.

Well, at least being those things made it hard for HYDRA to find him. Bucky needed to heal, recover what other memories he could, and work out what to do next. Whether to go on a roaring rampage of revenge against HYDRA – because he had enough memories back to recognize them as the enemy – or go to Steve (perhaps let Steve find him?), or stay away entirely and move elsewhere.

Steve…

Bucky knew now how important Steve was. He had remembered that he and Steve had admitted how much they’d meant to each other, encouraged by Peggy. Well, perhaps ‘encouraged’ was too mild a word. Bucky couldn’t recall all of the details, but he knew there was a mission where he and Steve had nearly died and Peggy became fed up with seeing them silently pining after each other, so she cut through their hesitation and told them some home truths.

At least that had given them a few weeks of being together before the train and Zola.

Now, over seventy years later…

Bucky put down his fork and glared at his left arm. God, he’d nearly killed Steve... He had nearly choked Steve to death with it. Tried to punch him into the ground, used the arm’s strength in attempts to drive knives into his flesh, shot Steve...

He tried to pull himself out of those memories. But they were one of the reasons why he was staying away from Steve.

The future was now. The world of tomorrow. And both he and Steve were in it. Though they had got there via slightly different routes.

Seventy freaking years.

Now Bucky was doing a huge catch up on the news and rediscovering himself. What food he still liked and what ones he enjoyed now which he hadn’t before, and also trying out foods he hadn’t previously heard of.

Bucky researched about the world, mostly about Steve. Bucky winced at the bits of history that he himself had been a part of making, post-fall. He had fallen from heaven, from Steve’s side. He felt hot, bitter anger: at Zola, HYDRA, the serum, the arm. For about five seconds, he blamed Steve for not catching him, but that was hardly fair. For a little while he thought that Steve had jumped after him or fallen too and that Steve had remained unconscious in the snow-filled crevice instead, only found recently, before Bucky realized what had actually happened. He read with annoyance about what Steve _had_ done – okay, he had saved so many lives by preventing those bombs from reaching the US, but…

“Ain’t we a pair?” Bucky sighed and ate some more.

He was proud of what Steve had achieved during the last two years – leading the Avengers, still helping people.

He badly wanted to see Steve again. But was it safe to do so? Bucky had done so much damage, not just to him, and could still be a threat if there was any leftover HYDRA programming in his head. Would Steve reject him? Would the Avengers arrest him? He couldn’t blame them if they did. Bucky couldn’t trust himself. But he also felt like he needed some time by himself to try to sort things out. Or would it be better to do so with Steve? He knew Steve had healed from his injuries, and that he and Sam Wilson were preparing to go looking for Bucky.

Bucky had his life back. Sort of. Now to deal with the horrible memories and crushing guilt about what he’d done. And to try to keep under the radar. Back in DC, he had laid some false trails for whatever of HYDRA was left, to make them think that he had fled overseas. Steve may have encountered the same information.  

He stared at his arm again. The pain from it usually hadn’t been an issue before now, with him being in a brainwashed state or in cryo. Now when he was out in public, he tried not to move it much, to prevent it from making noises that would gain attention.

This metal hand was good at opening bottles, he supposed. And, ironically, it would be one of his best weapons and defense against any HYDRA agents who did find him. Though he also made sure to have extra insurance on hand, in the form of guns and knives.

He had braved a barber’s to get his hair cut – midway between his old WW2 style and his longer, neglected locks. _Bucky for a new era_ , he thought sardonically.

His thoughts again turned to The Steve Reunion Problem. His head ached and he needed a break, so he got up, put away what was left of his meal and then prepared to go shopping.

xXx

In the supermarket, he made sure to select some different foods, to further his education, and also ingredients to bake with.

Bucky had nearly finished his shopping in a mall when he heard screaming. The part of him that was suspicious it was a trap wanted him to flee, while his innate nature wanted him to rush in and help however he could.

He put down his groceries and carefully went to investigate.

The uproar was coming from a nearby food court. Some sort of robot was standing on top of a little stage area there.

The robot was seven feet tall, human in shape but very bulky and pale green. It had glowing eyes and was missing most of its left arm. It raised its right hand and blasted a burst of energy from its palm at a large advertising board, shattering it. People were cowering.

“I said, ‘Do not move’!” it bellowed in a deep male voice. “You are all my prisoners.”

There were moans, screams and shaking. But so far, Bucky couldn’t see that anyone was badly hurt. Fortunately, there was no one on the platform with it.

Keeping out of the robot’s line of sight behind a pillar, Bucky analyzed his unexpected opponent, the situation and the potential weapons.

There were a whole mix of people in the food court. Some even had t-shirts of the Avengers, of Steve’s shield. There were babies and the elderly.

Was someone remote controlling the robot? He didn’t think so – it seemed to be reacting immediately to anything that happened. Bucky’s main focus would be to disable that ‘gun arm’.

Perhaps this was a trap, but if he could prevent people getting hurt… Bucky crept closer. He shadowed from cover to cover quietly. Most people were cowering or focused on the robot and didn’t notice him, or if they did, he put a finger to his lips and snuck forwards again.

There was only one threat. If he or security tried to shoot it, there was the risk of bullets ricocheting. Should he jump in now or wait for law enforcement or the Avengers to show up and deal with it?

Then the decision was made for him, when a man panicked, got up and started to flee.

Bucky ran and leapt before the robot could fully raise its hand.

He smashed into the robot’s front side. It staggered but it didn’t fall. Damn. They remained on the little stage.

Bucky grabbed the robot’s weapon arm with _his_ weapon arm and forced it down, while applying all the pressure he could to try and crush the robot’s hand or at least damage it. The robot was strong, but so was he. Even if at the moment in their struggle he felt like it was David and Goliath. Or Small Steve and Bully of the Hour. With his flesh arm, Bucky grasped around the robot’s torso, almost in a hug.

He probably couldn’t take down this thing, not without reducing their surroundings to rubble with great risk to innocents. But he should – would – be able to keep it busy or stationary until proper help arrived. Talking as a delay or distraction tactic probably wouldn’t suffice. So, the plan would have to be locking himself and itself into this position. Not let it shake him off or upset his center of balance. He would use everything about the Winter Soldier: the serum, the training, the strength and this damn arm, as well as his Bucky Barnes determination (which Steve Rogers had taught him) and inner strength. It all combined to make him keep the thing in place, or only moving a little, despite its struggles. Force, meet immovable object.

The robot roared. Sparks were coming from its hand, which Bucky was managing to crush a bit. He also made a quick move with his right leg, smashing his foot as hard as he could against the side of the robot’s knee, then against its right foot as he dropped his leg back down, trying to cripple it. At least partial success was made.

_This thing had better not have eye lasers… Or rockets in its feet. Bit late to worry about those._

Again, the robot tried to disturb his balance or get enough leverage to throw him. Nope. It did manage to fire, but it wasn’t a full blast, and since Bucky had managed to partly close its hand, it seemed like it took off some of its own fingers (and probably singed some of his own metal ones – he could smell burned material from his glove and sense some heat). Fortunately, Bucky had been able to hear the sound of the weapon powering up and angled the robot’s hand so that the energy just hit the floor of the stage they were on. Bucky didn’t lose any toes.

If the robot’s neck was thinner, he would have risked trying to break it, but it was very solid and his hands were occupied with holding on, keeping that weapon arm down, trying to keep a grip.

When Bucky was sure that he could hold the robot, he yelled, “Everyone get out of here!”

There seemed to be a pause, or did he imagine it? He couldn’t really look and it was hard to hear over the robot bellowing. Some people had probably risked making their escape when he had first engaged with the threat anyway.

Then there was scrambling for freedom. Bucky hoped no one would get crushed in the rush.

He heard someone, an older-sounding female, call: “We’ll get help for you! The police! The Avengers!”

“Avengers appreciated,” he grunted. Well, it looked like the decision about whether to get in contact with Steve or not had been made. He’d worry about that later.

The clamor of retreat started to die down.  He could hear the sound of metal straining – he wasn’t sure if it was his own metal or the robot’s.

For one of the rare times in his life, he was grateful for that arm, for that ability. Like when he had saved Steve from the river.

Now that the immediate area was clear, Bucky tried to talk to the robot, while maintaining his grip.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

The robot just roared and bellowed, “You are my hostage!”

“Who’s controlling you? You don’t have to do this! You’ve more than your programming!”

If there was a chance that he could verbally get through to the robot, like Steve had done with him, he had to try it.

Again, the robot tried to fling him away or rattle him to death. Teeth clacking, Bucky wondered if this was what it felt like to be a bronco rider.

He heard the arm weapon power up again, and gritting his teeth, he managed to angle it enough this time for the robot to hit itself in its leg.

A memory of a history lesson came to him –had he and Steve read it in a library book or been told it at school? – of an Ancient Roman wrestling match. After struggling for ages, the opponents were so exhausted that they were ‘doing little more than leaning into one another with their body weight’. Then finally one capitulated … only to find that at some stage during the fight, the other combatant had died. The victor had won posthumously. _“See, Buck,”_ Steve had said. _“If you never give up, you can’t possibly lose.”_

Bucky had not been impressed. _“You idiot. What sort of a victory is that? A stupid one, that’s what. I think there’s even a word for it: Pyrrhic.”_

In the present, he had achieved the main outcome of his self-imposed mission: to save the people. He hadn’t managed to defeat the foe, just keep it at a standstill. Now that the surrounding area was safe, could he try to throw the thing around and try to destroy it? Try to pry open its torso and plunge his hand or a knife into its innards? Though whatever metal plates it was made of seemed fairly streamlined – it looked like it would be a hard job to get a blade between the joins. Plus, knowing Bucky’s luck, if he tried to stick his hand up its damaged arm or into its body, he’d probably get an electrical shock. Keep trying to reason with it?

Or try to keep it ‘busy’ or as inactive as possible until help came? The latter was the better option.

_Don’t think of the strain. Just do it._

The robot reminded him in some ways of the one on the train in the Alps, with the gun arm, though the one on the train probably had a human inside, controlling it.

Time was crawling and racing. He almost lost all sense of it. The grip, the purpose, the duty – that’s all there was. They were locked together like bizarre dance partners. The robot’s bellows were making his ears ring. It seemed to have given up on issuing orders and demands, and just yelling, apart from it occasionally declaring that he was its hostage. _Yeah, buddy. Whatever you say._

Should he risk trying to reach up and do some damage to its face, blind it? That might interfere with its sensors – or give it a chance to get rid of him if he changed his grip.

_Ignore the pain. Keep aware. You have to hold._

Thankfully the fact that the robot was missing an arm gave Bucky some advantage – perhaps it was an unfinished invention and not at full capacity.

He heard the arrival of the Avengers, or some of them. The sound of Iron Man’s thrusters was hard to miss. Howard’s son was going to help him. That felt both weird and reassuring.

And was he about to be arrested? Or worse?

He could hear Tony Stark saying, “Scans show there are no civilians, apart from a man holding off the threat – literally holding it off – must be an enhanced. He’s got a metal arm. Oh shit… Is that -?”

Steve’s voice. “It’s Bucky!” Then he said, “Buck, just hang on a little more – we’ll help you!”

Iron Man landed close by. Steve had been clinging to his back, wearing his Cap suit and shield, and jumped down. Bucky was definitely going to tease him about that little ride when – if – he got a chance.

“Tony, is it safe to separate them?” Steve asked anxiously.

Stark’s faceplate lifted and he said, “JARVIS is running a scan. There may be some danger from that damaged arm-weapon.”

“Bucky!”

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky now couldn’t look at him properly from his position. Steve moved around so that he could, and he was also studying the situation. Always a strategist.

As reunions go, this was definitely not how Bucky had pictured his and Steve’s happening.

They managed to keep talking through the robot’s noises – probably because both Steve and Bucky had super hearing and Stark’s suit could presumably do the same.

Stark Jr. asked Steve, “Any chance that your buddy is still in Winter Soldier mode?”

“No, that’s Bucky’s determination face.”

“Hello, ‘Bucky’ – any friend of Steve’s is a new source of potential teasing for me.” But Stark was completely serious when he said: “We’re trying to work out how to best deactivate this robot or separate the two of you without any further danger. Can you maintain that position for now?”

“I can do this all day,” Bucky replied.

He caught a glimpse of Steve, looking like he’d burst with pride. But there was also a lot of worry.

Stark sighed. “He even sounds like you, Cap… I look forward to whatever embarrassing stories he can tell me about your past.” Then he rolled his eyes at the bellowing of the robot. “Oh, stop getting your panties in a twist, windbag.”

It took some time, scans, brainstorming and delicate work to disentangle them. Fortunately, Tony managed to deactivate the robot’s voice box fairly quickly and all three of them gave a simultaneous sigh of relief. During this time, Stark said that his AI was also keeping the emergency services workers and authorities up to date and had managed to convince them to stay out of the vicinity until the threat was neutralized, since the civilians had been evacuated. They were making sure that no one else was going to stumble into the scene.

Steve was anxiously asking how Bucky was. Bucky tried to explain that he wasn’t sure if there was still left-over HYDRA programming in his head or not. Stark reassured him that they would find out, and if there was, they’d get it out. Typical Stark confidence. But Bucky appreciated it.

Stark then worked out how to shut the robot down entirely and when he did so, he held it from behind, keeping its weight off Bucky in case it fell, and he and Steve carefully pried them apart. Steve then hurried to support Bucky when they were separated.

“Thank you… Ow. That was a worse dance partner than you,” Bucky managed. His body was experiencing shooting pains and deep aches. He couldn’t move his metal arm properly. His other limbs felt like they were made of white-hot jelly. Just as well he was resting against Steve’s broad chest. That was a very good thing. Shame he couldn’t fully appreciate it just now.

Stark gave the all-clear to the emergency services personnel. When they started to appear, Bucky felt overwhelmingly tired and a bit dizzy.

“Bucky, are you all right?” Steve asked, still holding on to him.

“I think… I’m going to pass out…”

To his utter annoyance, he promptly proved himself right.

xXx

Bucky woke up in an infirmary. He saw Steve sitting there.

“Hey, Buck. You’re in Avengers Tower. How do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by a truck…”

Steve nodded. “That’s not surprising. You technically grabbed a truck in mid-crash and stopped it from running over anyone.” Steve looked very proud and relieved.

His whole body was aching, especially his shoulder where the metal arm joined his body. The arm looked a bit twisted and bent around the forearm and hand. And burnt.

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No serious injuries. You were able to give people an escape route before the robot really got itself started.”

Steve reached for his flesh hand and gently held it. They sat there quietly, just watching each other, not with caution, but relief and happiness.

Then Steve got him a drink. While he did so, Bucky thought how he was glad to be in Avengers Tower. There would be security people nearby, plus Stark’s AI would be monitoring him, and he could be contained or dealt with if any programming was triggered.

Unaware of his thoughts, Steve said, “I’ll get the nurse too; you must be in pain.”

“Not yet.” At Steve’s hesitation, he said, “Soon. I’m all right for now. I just want some time with you first. Just you.”

“Okay. Tony said he can fix your arm. Well, he said he can replace the whole thing, much better and lightweight. But he doesn’t want to do anything without your say so. He’ll go over it with you when you feel up to it.”

Bucky nodded, grateful. “I’ve used this arm for a lot of bad. Think the Avengers will let me help use it – or its replacement – for good instead?”

“I’m pretty damn sure that can be arranged.” Steve then sobered. “Today, you weren’t on your way to see me, were you? The robot forced it to happen?”

“I was thinking about coming to see you. Was trying to get my head straight first.”

“We can do that together, if you’re ready. I could use some help with that too.”

Bucky wanted to joke and say, _‘When did you NOT need help with that?’_ but instead he nodded. “An offer I can’t refuse.”

“You _can_ refuse it, if you want. It’s your choice.”

“I don’t want to refuse that.” Bucky squeezed his hand.

“How much do you remember?”

“Bits and pieces of being the Winter Soldier. More comes back the longer I’m away from the cryo and mind-wiping.” He saw the stricken expression on Steve’s face and reluctantly continued answering his question. “I know a lot about growing up in Brooklyn and about the war. I distinctly remember Peggy being all exasperated with us and telling us to ‘bloody well admit’ how we felt about each other. I nearly swallowed my tongue when she said that.”

“So did I.” Steve looked relieved though, that Bucky remembered that. His thumb moved back and forth over Bucky’s hand. “Did you know that Peggy is still alive?” At Bucky’s nod, he continued, “We can go to DC and visit her, when you’re ready.”

“Good.” Bucky knew that a lot had changed since the 40s, but Steve’s feelings for him had not. They glowed and burned in his eyes and in every fiber of his being. They could reclaim their relationship while he recovered. “And you can tell me what is going on with some of the food in this century!”

“I know…” Steve replied with perfect sympathy. “Amazing things and weird things, and so much of it. You can meet the rest of the Avengers soon. When the call came in about the robot, only Tony and I were at the Tower, so we flew over with him carrying me. He would have done a bridal carry, but he thought I’d be better off on his back, so he could protect me if the robot shot at us.”

“It was a nice look for you. That’s what I’ve been wanting to ask – what the hell was up with that robot?”

“It got away from its creator.”

Bucky groaned. “Of course!”

“It wasn’t HYDRA though. The guy who made it is enhanced, a scientist and inventor called Monro, and he had programmed it with different scenarios, so that he could train with it or against it, then deactivate and reprogram it. Because he’s been thinking about becoming a masked vigilante. When they were training in his private gym about a hostage situation, the scientist was winning and ‘disarmed’ him of one arm, but the prototype weapon he was trialing accidentally scrambled its programming somehow and it went nuts. It knocked out Monro before he could shut it down by computer or code words. It then fled and looked for hostages to complete its ‘mission’.”

“The world has become a science fiction novel. Did the robot have a cool name?”

Steve’s lips twitched. “Tiny, apparently.”

“Oh God.”

They started laughing. It felt great. Bucky knew that even though the robot had forced his hand, so to speak, it was the right thing for him to be back with Steve again.

Steve stopped laughing and went completely serious. It seemed like he was having similar thoughts, because he said: “So glad to have you back, Buck.”

“Same here.” There was a pause, then Bucky said, “I feel sorry for the robot.”

“Well, Tony deactivated Tiny; he didn’t destroy it. So he and Monro will do their best to fix it up.”

Bucky found himself admitting, “It’s a bit like me: made to be a tool, a weapon, given all that strength, and then malfunctioning. I was afraid to contact you because I didn’t trust myself yet. Look what the robot did – I could do that.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Steve protested. “The robot’s instinct was to rampage and hold people prisoner. Your instinct was to stay and help, no matter what the risk was to you. You started out as a hero. You didn’t become a HYDRA assassin by choice.”  
“Now I’m reverting to original programming?” Bucky asked.

“You’ve always been my hero, Buck. From the playground and beyond.”

Steve was so earnest and determined. Bucky didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Steve, but he was very glad.

“Now, are you ready for the medical staff? They want to talk to you about what pain killers would be effective.”

“All right.”

xXx

After introducing the medical staff and JARVIS to Bucky, Steve went to get him some food and books. Bucky finished a discussion with a doctor and was given some meds that had got rid of the aches without making him feel too floaty. He also looked at diagrams that JARVIS projected just above the bed for him.

It was data about Bucky’s wrestling opponent. And it showed how instrumental Bucky’s metal arm had been in managing to deal with the robot. Without it, even with his enhanced strength, it would have been a much more difficult task, and JARVIS assessed that a lot of the civilians would have been hurt or killed in the process.

So, that was a reason to be glad for the arm. It was a step forward in accepting it. And according to JARVIS, Stark was indeed working on a much better arm for Bucky, one that he promised wouldn’t cause strain and pain. So, perhaps eventually he would come to even like having a metal arm. It was a part of him, and like a lot else about the last 70-odd years, he was doing his best to deal with it.

JARVIS had files of counselors for him to choose from, to further aid his recovery, which Bucky showed to Steve upon his return. “Can you help me to decide?” he asked.

“Sure, Buck.”

xXx

When Bucky was out of the infirmary he and Steve started cooking together in Steve’s – their – floor of the Tower. And when Bucky got his new metal arm, baking helped him to get used to it more quickly.

They also started training together in the gym, for fitness, to see what the arm was capable of, and to get Bucky eventually ‘Avengers-ready’. He went to therapy several times a week, and had nightmares even more often than that, but having Steve around to help him after the nightmares was so much better than struggling alone in his tiny apartment. They talked a lot in the darkest hours of the night.

It was still being worked out about when to announce that Bucky was alive, that he was the hero of the mall incident and what he had been forced to do by HYDRA. Fortunately, tests found that there was no lingering HYDRA programming left in his brain. And Bucky was getting to know the rest of the Avengers and Steve’s other friends.

Steve and Bucky had other things to concentrate on. To make up for their lost years, they spent a lot of time together. A favorite thing to do was sitting close on the sofa, reading and sketching, or holding while they watched television. Kissing and more ambitious touching soon started to occur.

Apart from when he was out in public, Bucky tended not to wear a glove over his metal hand anymore. When Steve held his new hand, even if Bucky couldn’t feel the same sensations as with his flesh hand, it still felt good in his heart.

xXx

One night when they were getting ready for bed, Bucky put his arms around Steve and said, “There’s some wrestling I wouldn’t mind trying…”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “In the gym or here in the privacy of our home?”

Bucky grinned and clarified: “Sparring in the gym is good. But there are some moves that would be good to try in bed with you.”

“Whenever you want. Whatever you want.”

Bucky slid both of his hands down Steve’s back to his behind and heard him suck in breath. “I’m quite liking getting to grips with the future.”

Steve kissed him passionately in response, breaking off at times to gasp at what they were doing to each other. They did make it to the bed.

There, they fused together even closer than Bucky and the robot had managed. But _this_ white-hot jelly feeling was altogether more pleasurable.

Definitely a win for both sides. Or a wonderful way to have a draw.

xXx

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much to fayedartmouth for betaing and for the suggestions!
> 
> Author’s Note: The quotes about the wrestling match were taken from the Monty Python Black Knight entry on Wikipedia. John Cleese was inspired to write the Black Knight scene by a lesson during his school days about a rather unique Roman wrestling match.


End file.
